


Take My Breath Away

by AdelineAround



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Begging, Bottom Connor, Canon Compliant, Choking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Teasing, Top Hank, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 11:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20795774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelineAround/pseuds/AdelineAround
Summary: Connor is intrigued by the concept of autoerotic asphyxiation, especially when he notices Hank chokes on his own breath just before he releases.





	Take My Breath Away

**Author's Note:**

> Back in March, I wrote this thread about a kink that gets my engines revving.  
DISCLAIMER & WARNING: do NOT try this without real professional training. Erotic asphyxiation can be very dangerous and even fatal when not done correctly.

There is something peculiar about Hank’s orgasms, Connor finds. Not that there is anything wrong with them, or something wrong with Hank for that matter. No. Everything is fine when he and Hank have sex. Maybe it is just his programmed nature to pick up subtleties like this one to make him more attentive; a better detective so he can accomplish his mission (whatever that might be, now that the revolution is over). What he notices is this: when Hank is close to coming, the man will hold his own breath, and choke on the air before he spills into Connor with an animalistic roar.

So, one night when they are lounging on the couch, Connor bites the bullet to bring up what has been on his mind for the past week and a half.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?”

Hank grunts, “You know, you can drop the ‘lieutenant’ title, Con. I’m not into that type of kink.”

“Can I ask you a personal question, Hank?” reiterates Connor.

Hank smirks; takes a swig of his beer. “Shoot,” he says.

“I have no gun, just a question,” Connor replies cheekily.

Hank sends a playful glare at him. “Okay, smartass. Just ask me the damn question, Connor.”

Connor smiles mirthfully before going serious again. “Why do you deprive yourself of oxygen right before you come, Hank?” he asks.

Hank’s blue eyes bug out of his head as he gawks at Connor. “Where’d you get that notion in your android brain?”

Connor shrugs. “I noticed that you stop breathing just before you ejaculate in me.”

“I...” Hank’s face flushes a deep red, embarrassed. “Do I do that?”

Connor nods, “Yes, you do.”

Hank leans his head back. “Fuck, then I guess I do it subconsciously.”

“Why do you do it?” Connor keeps the conversation going.

Hank stares into the TV for a while but is not watching. Minutes pass by, and Connor thinks that maybe he overstepped. Perhaps he will just let the conversation go... until Hank starts talking again.

“It feels good,” he says. “It feels like I’m on the verge of passing out, but I’m coming. I feel like I’m a gasket ready to blow. When I choke, all I can hear is the bounding pulse of my heart, the blood rushing through my ears. My vision blurs at the edges; all I can see is you. Your face. Your body clenching around me as you twist and clutch at the bed.” Hank buries his face in his hands. “My god...”

Connor adjusts his position on the couch to put all his attention on Hank. “Your pulse just went up, Lie— Hank. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I know,” Hank groans.

“In fact,” Connor continues, eyeing the mild arousal growing in Hank’s grey sweatpants. “I think it’s hot.”

“You, what?” Hank swears not quite under his breath.

“You heard me, Hank,” says Connor. He shifts ever closer to the man. His hand begins its ascent up Hank’s thigh, crawling towards the present half-chub Hank is sporting. “I think it’s so sexy.”

“I don’t understand.” Hank looks flabbergasted, but does not move. Instead, he watches how Connor’s slim fingers slither toward his groin.

Connor bats his eyes and delivers his sentence with a hint of slyness, “Oh, I think you do. I think you know it’s what helps you get off. It’ll be good for you.

“How do you know what’s good for me?” Hank asks, trying to steel himself; not do anything to show he wants Connor just as much as Connor wants him. But his resistance is growing weak. Connor reaches out to palm him through his pants.

“I don’t.” Connor admits, “That’s just my opinion.”

Hank bites down on his bottom lip, enduring what he can until Connor is delving into the waistband of his sweats. The android feels his length perfunctorily. Then, he is pushing those pants down, exposing Hank’s hard rod of a cock to the cool air around them.

“But,” Connor continues, “I think you shouldn’t have to stress your respiratory system by yourself when you have a perfectly viable partner around.” He flicks his gaze to Hank’s red face. His deft fingers are conniving enough to run around the head of Hank’s twitching member.

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Hank is barely able to pant out. They have just begun, and he is already feeling winded.

Connor shakes his head. “What I mean, Hank, is that you shouldn’t have to be the one to choke yourself. Haven’t you ever thought that maybe someone like ME could bate your breath for you?” For emphasis, Connor closes his hand in a loose fist around Hank’s cock, squeezing it just enough to make Hank squeak a yelp.

“Connor,” Hank can’t think right anymore.

“Let me help you, Hank,” Connor murmurs, eyes leveling with the lieutenant’s. “Let us try it this one instance. If you don’t like it, then we won’t do it again.” He strokes up Hank’s hard cock before his hand is going down. “Won’t you put some faith in me, Hank?”

“Put some— goddamn- faith in you,” Hank still has the nerve to scoff. Connor teases at the slit of his member, and he gasps, “Jesus, Con. You want me to choke that much, huh?”

Connor grins, a finger scooping up the pearling, clear fluid that leaks from Hank’s tip. He brings it to his own lips, smearing it over them like some sort of chapstick. Connor lets Hank watch a while before he takes his tongue and rolls it over the applied precum, licking it off his lips like it is an edible sugar scrub. “Mm,” he sounds. “Maybe I just want to try choking you.” Connor wants more; can feel his own biocomponents getting wet with excitement. “What do you say, Hank? Will you let me?”

Hank opens his mouth, shuts it when he realizes he has no clue what to say, then opens it again. Connor takes his balls in his other hand, rolling them softly. Hank moans, wishing that he could get Connor to slide onto the floor and suck him off right then and there. But no, Connor is still waiting for him to give an answer. Hank needs to give an affirmative.

Like a chip in a glass windshield, the crack in Hank’s stubborn resolve widens until it splits it in two. His hips thrust up in eagerness. “Yes, yes.” He says, “I’ll let you, Connor. Please.”

Connor hums in satisfaction at Hank’s compliance. All too abruptly, Connor releases Hank’s cock, leaving him what feels like high and dry. Hank stifles a disappointed groan from his throat, curious as to what Connor is about to do next. He wants to see how far they will go. Connor feels the same way.

“Bedroom,” Connor says.

It takes a second for Hank to comprehend what Connor wants from him, but he gets it soon enough. “Oh,” is what comes out of his mouth.

Connor raises an eyebrow. “Oh?” He asks, “Bed?”

“Yes,” Hank clears his throat. He starts to get up and off the couch.

Connor is getting impatient though. With his synthetic strength, he sweeps Hank off his feet, cradling the man in his arms; one holding the back of his thighs and the other supporting Hank’s back. He hoists him up before making way to the bedroom, ignoring Hank’s cry of surprise. He can feel Hank’s heart pounding in the man’s chest, and deposits him gently on the mattress to rid any anxiety that could have accumulated from the sofa to the bedroom.

“Come here, Con,” says Hank, sounding breathy. His hands stretch for Connor, bringing his face in for a kiss.

Connor obliges, sealing his lips over Hank’s, as if to say that everything will pan out right. He nibbles at Hank’s bottom lip to ask for invitation, to which Hank grants him full access of his warm oral cavern. Their tongues collide; dance with each other after first meet. Soon, their mouths become as slick as Connor feels between his legs. The fabric of his pants are probably drenched by now, and he wants it off. He wants all of their clothing off now. Connor pulls back, breaking the kiss, in favor for pulling off his garments.

Hank staggers back, trying to grip the reins again. His pupils are dilated with lust, the dark color nibbling at his ocean irises. When he sees Connor strip, he moans softly, bringing a hand to his exposed cock. Hank strokes himself to the erotic sight of his lover undressing. Connor shucks off the last article of clothing from his body, standing bare in the room for only Hank. 

“Like what you see?” 

He hikes a leg onto the bed, revealing the source of dripping arousal between his thighs. Connor smirks when he hears Hank growl low in his larynx.

Connor tips his head to the side, two fingers sliding down to run through his anatomy, middle finger circling around the fleshy cock that juts from between his dipping lips. He sees Hank’s nostrils flare at the sight; a sign good enough for Connor to continue. He stops touching himself to join Hank on the bed. Connor gets on all fours, prowling like a jungle cat towards Hank. The look in Hank’s eyes show just how hungry he is for Connor. The cock in his lap is at full mast, dribbling at the tip. Connor wants to put his mouth on him. But he doesn’t, for fear that Hank might come too fast. Connor wants Hank to come when Hank is in him; when he is choking Hank.

So, Connor skips that section, aiming to rid Hank of his sweatpants and greasy shirt instead.

“Off,” he demands, poking at Hank’s stained t shirt. Connor rises to sit on his knees, waiting for Hank to comply.

“Never seen you so bossy outside of work,” Hank jeers, but there is no maliciousness in his tone. He crosses his arms over himself, grabbing at the hem of his shirt.

As soon as Hank wrangles his shirt off, Connor is tackling him to the bed, ripping those grey sweatpants from the sides.

"Connor!" Hank yips. Connor tears the rest of Hank's bottoms in strips, peeling the rest from under his legs.

He is thankful that these were not Hank's favorite pair, or he is sure that the man would have smacked him for ruining it. But enough of that; Connor, with his ultra sensitive sensors, is hit with the strong scent of Hank's arousal. Diluted thirium floods his mouth at the smell.

Hank pants, cheeks painted with a beautiful cherry hue. He looks at Connor half-lidded, legs sprawled as he leans back on his elbows. "Come on, Con." In the peripherals of Connor's vision, he can see Hank's cock throb, twitching upwards, thick and heavy upon his belly.

“Not yet,” Connor taunts him with a finger waving side to side. He leans back into a position similar to Hank’s, but one hand seats itself on his own right thigh. “Watch me as I watch you,” he says.

“Con,” starts Hank.

“Be good for me, Hank.” Connor shoots him a warning look.

Hank lets out a sound not unlike a whine, but otherwise stays still until Connor says, “I want you to touch yourself. I want you to copy me.”

Hank sputters, “C-copy you?”

Connor nods slowly, two fingers already poised before his own dick. He flicks it gently, hissing, “Yes.”

“Oh fuck,” draws out of Hank’s mouth as his hand scrambles to do the same to his behemoth cock. They stare at each other, lust beginning to pool in their irises.

Connor takes his dick between index and thumb, stroking himself now. He moans softly, inner muscles already clenching. Hank follows suit with his big, warm hand gripping his large length. Connor watches as Hank’s fist goes up and down his cock at the same, slow pace that he sets. Slick begins to seep from between Connor’s folds as he stimulates himself more. He fights his own impatience.

“Play with those heavy balls of yours, big boy.” Connor’s voice is no more than a whisper.

Hank obliges without complaint, a breathy groan pushed out from his diaphragm. He rolls his heavy balls in their sac, and Connor distracts himself by finally, finally putting a finger inside himself. Connor lies on his back, both hands busy with himself, but he manages to crane his neck to keep an eye on Hank as well. Another finger plunders into his front hole, and his systems tell him that his core temperature is beginning to rise steadily. Based on the shade of Hank’s face, it seems like Connor is not the only one. When the android adds a third digit into himself, he scans Hank, noticing how shallow Hank’s breathing has become.

“Don’t hold your breath,” he quips.

“‘M... not,” Hank sighs out. His voice is strained.

“You’re about to,” Connor says, almost as if he is disappointed. He knows how good he looks, three fingers shoved into him while he rubs at his dick, but carrying out his self-assigned mission is more important. He removes his fingers, wiping them dry on the bed sheets. “Hands off yourself,” he commands. 

Slowly, he moves closer to Hank until he has made to straddle the man’s legs. He bends down to kiss him chastely, paradoxical to his hips, which grind messily over Hank’s hard cock. They moan into the kiss together, grasping at each other.

Hank will not last if Connor does not hurry up. He cants his hips this way and that, eyes fluttering when the tip of Hank’s cock catches along his entrance. Still, it is not enough for Hank to go in; Connor is just too wet, making Hank slide off target with a bit of frustration.

“Eager much?” Hank jokes, steadying his arousal at the base so Connor can position himself over it properly.

“Perhaps it is both of us who are eager,” Connor contests, but not for long.

With gravity doing what it does best, Connor sinks down onto Hank’s waiting cock.

He goes down.

Down, down... 

Down, until his pelvis meets Hank’s base.

“Con!” shouts Hank. His meaty hands dive straight for Connor’s waist, holding him there. “Jesus, you are so tight.”

On Connor’s HUD, his systems alert him of distention in his lower most abdomen. He brushes his palm over his abdomen, finding that what his system says is true. Connor rubs the bump that protrudes his belly the slightest bit. God, he thinks, that is HANK’S cock pushing up against his abdominal walls. His chest clenches in excitement at the fact.

“Haaank..!”

Connor uses the strength in his thighs to lift himself up, feeling his belly the whole time, letting Hank’s cock slide out until the man is only half-sheathed inside him. Then, Connor lets himself slide back down, crying out as he takes Hank to the hilt again.

Again, Connor does it again. Lifting himself higher, Hank nearly slides out of him completely. Connor rushes after Hank’s cock though, slamming down hard enough to send a jolt of electricity up his synthetic spine. The noise he makes is deafening, most like a scream but not.

“Aah, fuck!” Hank is caught off-guard by Connor’s visceral action.

He cannot help but thrust up into the android, setting a brutal pace for the both of them. Skin slapping against artificial nanoskin reverberates through the air. Connor bounces in Hank’s lap fervently like he is riding a bull. But knows that, if he falls off the bull, the bull called Hank will come and mount him. His LED flashes yellow for a moment at the thought, but he does not stop. Connor fucks himself on Hank, scanning him every few seconds just to note any changes in Hank’s vitals.

Then, there, just as Connor feels Hank’s hold on him tightening, the man begins to stop his inhale of air in. Connor squeezes his thighs tight enough on each side of Hank’s lap as a forewarning before he reaches out, hands encircling Hank’s lovely neck.

Under his grasp, Connor can feel Hank’s carotid pulse, measuring it as steady, regular and a little heightened due to their activities. Carefully, he presses down on each side of the man’s throat. He can hear Hank wheeze as he tests his breathing, finding that he is able to, but just barely.

Connor applies more pressure to the column of Hank’s throat. This time, he can feel Hank’s laryngeal prominence bob down and up. A choke gurgles forth from the man, but Hank does not put up any sign that says he cannot handle it. In fact, he thrusts harder into Connor, plowing the android roughly. Hank is being pushed to the edge too soon. Connor releases Hank’s throat, allowing the man to breathe and get blood flow back. 

Hank coughs, then whines a complaint, “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He tries to pound into Connor, but Connor digs his nails into Hank’s shoulder.

Connor wants to moan, wants his resolve to crumble into a mess, but he won’t. He wants to hear Hank’s desperation first. “Beg,” he says simply. “Beg for it.”

“Sh-shit,” Hank throbs inside of Connor at that. “Con...”

“Beg,” Connor reinforces, keeping his hands away.

Hank looks as if he is about to shatter into a million pieces. His cerulean eyes have the slightest glint of wetness to them, so deep and desperate for more; something… It sounds like music when Hank opens his mouth and gives in, “Choke me, Connor. Do it, please.”

Connor can feel his processors whirring overtime. With lightning speed, his body snaps back into action, hips gyrating. His arms strike out to get hold onto Hank’s gorgeous neck, relishing the feel when Hank’s air supply is diminished and his pulse beats strong and healthily.

Hank chokes and gasps, nails clawing at what he can find; he digs his fingers into the bedsheets below. Connor moans unadulterated and messy as Hank hits every sensitive nerve in his passage, rubbing up against his abdomen walls. Their pleasure builds and builds, soon to crest.

Ruddiness in Hank’s face becomes more apparent, his mouth permanently open even though he cannot suck in gulps of air. Connor does not let go, instead squeezing his muscles hard around Hank’s cock, hips stuttering every so often from the feel-good.

They are both going to come soon. Connor can taste the nearness of sweet ecstasy on his oral sensors. He speeds up, goes faster, keeping a check on Hank’s vitals the entire time. In, out, up, down. Hank’s eyes roll back in their sockets suddenly, eyelids batting wildly as he comes.

Connor releases his throat immediately, watching Hank’s chest exhale then expand with oxygenated air. The man is beautiful like this as he takes in deep sucks of air into his lungs, voice ragged and raw like he has just been resurrected. It sends shivers through Connor’s being. Warmth floods Connor’s passageway, hot jets spurting from Hank’s member. It fills him up, and if Connor’s synthetic muscles were not squeezing him like they were trying to milk the last drop out of Hank, he is sure he would be overflowing; dripping sloppily from his entrance. The thought is too much paired with Hank grinding into him, riding out the last dregs of his orgasm. It leads Connor into his own rapture, pleasure racing through his circuitry like supersonic nice in a labyrinth. His nerve endings pop and fizz, frazzling him temporarily.

Connor loses motor control of his body, watching himself flop down onto Hank’s chest as he writhes and keens softly from the passion that overcomes him. After a while, he stops twitching, diagnostics already taking place in the back of his mind.

They lie there in the glow, Hank catching his breath while Connor recalibrates what he needs to. At some point, Hank’s cock slips out from Connor’s wrecked front hole, earning a soft mewl from the android, “I felt that stretch.”

“Mm,” Hank hums. “I bet you did.”

Hank gathers Connor in his arms, rolling them to their sides so they can fit against each other better. “I love you,” Hank says, rubbing the tip of his nose with Connor’s. It is awfully sweet, and Connor can’t help but smile. “Thank you for this.”

“No, Hank, thank you,” Connor says. “You let me indulge in your... kink, of sorts.”

Hank is silent for a while. Then, “Didn’t know I had this ‘kink’ until you pointed it out... I guess.”

“You guess?” Connor smirks into Hank’s shoulder. The man can be awfully sweet when he does not want to admit things completely.

“... Yeah. I guess,” declares Hank, as stubborn as he will always be.

Connor laughs, letting his processors fan and cool. He feels so weightless, holding Hank while Hank holds him. He does not need to breathe, but he does anyway, taking in Hank’s natural scent. It is lovely.

There is still much more to talk about, Connor thinks. It was risky trying out Hank’s erotic asphyxiation kink without a proper discussion first, but he is glad he went with what felt right at the time. He does not regret it now, and by the looks of it, Hank does not either. Sighing into Hank’s clavicle, Connor chuckles when he realizes that Hank has fallen asleep.

Maybe it is a good time to run another diagnostic before stasis. He presses a soft kiss to Hank’s tender neck, finally closing his eyes for the night, more content than ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twit @ra9ical!  
Hope to see you there.


End file.
